


Wake Up (Confess Your Loving to Me)

by prettylittlefears82



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Matchmaker Nakia, Only One Bed, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlefears82/pseuds/prettylittlefears82
Summary: Only One Bed***Why don't we talk about entitlement? - just so we don't have to talk about us.𝘰𝘳Bucky's protective instincts drive a wedge between he and Shuri's relationship. Until, of course, they're forced to talk it out.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri, James "Bucky" Barnes/Shuri, Nakia (Black Panther)/T'Challa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Wake Up (Confess Your Loving to Me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Georgethecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Georgethecat/gifts).



> Song: Speak to Me by Ari Lennox

"I think it's a bad idea." confesses T'Challa as he changes the comfort settings for he and Nakia's bed. He can do it right from his Kimoyo beads, and so he makes use of it. Nakia might be tough as nails but likes everything soft, from her carpets to her face - and yes, her bed. After four years of marriage he's learned to deal with it. Fortunately, the rewards are bountiful.

Nakia slips beside him into the sheets. "Nothing I come up with is a bad idea." she says.

T'Challa smiles, "I know. But they're definitely not on good terms with one another anymore," he sets the beads on his nightstand and turns to face her, resting his head on his hand, "We'll end up coming back with Barnes in a casket."

With a scoff, Nakia swats at his arm turns off her sides' lamp. "We'll see." she says with a yawn.

"I didn't agree."

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight." he replies. He loves when she calls him that. Her _love_. It induces a certain pride in him, one even his kingly duties can't arouse.

The room plunges to darkness, and quite soon only the couple's steady breathing be heard.

* * *

"Nakia and I will be joining you and Barnes in Oakland next week." T'Challa says over he, Ramonda, Nakia, and Shuri's dinner of beef stew and basmati rice. The clinking of silverware comes to a halt.

"Well that's certainly a new development. Have you made arrangements for yourselves?" asks Shuri, breaking the silence.

"Of course," T'Challa replies, continuing to pick at his rice, "We won't be bothersome. You'll forget we're even there."

Nakia takes a sudden sip of her water to hide her cheeky smile. There's no way they'll be able to, unless all goes well.

* * *

The next Monday, the four arrive in California. The plane ride had to have been one of the most awkward experiences of Bucky's life - and he'd walked in on Steve masturbating as a child.

Constantly, he'd turn to Shuri to make a joke about how mushy T'Challa and Nakia were being, only to remember they weren't speaking and sit in silence as the couple doted on one another.

Luckily, the flight only lasted a few hours. The Dora Milaje member given the duty of flying them passed through the clouds and Oakland skyline and into the Outreach Center's landing pad, where the invisible shields were finally turned off. From there they were driven to a nearby hotel, the same they'd always gone to even though Shuri would probably prefer to sleep in center's lab.

"So where's your rooms?" Shuri asked to T'Challa and Nakia as they all entered one of the hotel's many elevators, Bucky on Shuri's six, as always.

"14b." Nakia replied.

"You mean right next to 14a?" Nakia hums and Shuri asks, "Isn't that Bucky's?" 

She doesn't turn to him though. Doesn't even bother pointing. In fact, she speaks of him as if he isn't right next to her. It saddens him, but he keeps his poker face. The elevator comes to a stop and they walk out.

Shuri closes her eyes as if to gather her slowly thinning patience. When she opens them they're already at the end of the hall and she says, "I thought you said you'd made arrangements. _For yourselves_."

"We had. We'd arranged _this_." T'Challa replies, looking quite ashamed in his defense.

Nakia, however, shows no pity. "Well, looks like you're stuck with each other!" she calls out, shoving T'Challa inside their stolen room and shutting the door behind him.

Bucky and Shuri walk into theirs one after another. The suite is decorated in warm minimalism, an assortment of greys and neutrals lining the walls and covering the furniture. There's three main rooms. The foyer, that leads to a small living area; the bathroom; and the bedroom, with a some shelves, two closets, and a king-sized bed. 

_One_ bed. That's sure to be a problem.

They silently get their stuff settled in along with themselves, but they both know nothing's really been settled. For that to happen they'd have to be calm, content even, but they're obviously not.

Not as the both of them walk around with chips on their shoulders, Bucky checking the hotel for possible bugs and the like as Shuri sets up her tech. Normally, she'd set up music to speakers she'd install in both of their suites, but today it's quiet.

It's already late as Shuri heads to the bathroom, Bucky assumes to get ready for bed. He sits on a chair as he checks his Kimoyo beads for messages and notifications, the sound of the shower running the only noise. He's gotten so used to their friendship that being without it makes every task just _that_ more strenuous.

Like waking up without a good morning message from Shuri, probably in the form of a funny little gif. Or going into the town for groceries without her right beside him, judging his every choice with empty insults.

The feelings he'd previously passed off for gratitude come rushing back, and now he knows, it never was just gratitude. He cares, _way_ too much. He wants to be with her, always. Behind her, by her side, in her bed if she'll allow it - and in some way she has but _no_ , not in that way. Truth be told, the thought scares him just as much as it brings him joy.

Thirty minutes later she walks out of the bathroom, and as he gets up to go himself, she grabs a pillow from one of the closets and turns to head to the living area.

He sighs, "Where are you going?"

"Couch." she replies blandly. The first word she's spoken to him in weeks. 

During their fallout, a certain air in the palace had changed. The lab is quieter; the tension thicker.

Rumors float of the argument - or more fittingly - screaming match they'd had that ended in Bucky's departure from the palace back to his hut for the first time since he'd officially started working for the royal family.

Some say he'd finally shown his true colors, daring to utter a slur towards their princess. Others (mostly the gossip columns) proclaim he'd attempted to advance on her. Skeptics of his loyalty say it'd been found he'd taken advantage of Wakanda's kindness - and those are only the theories that put him at fault. Whatever the issue, quite frankly, everyone is tired, and Bucky knows it.

Most weary is Nakia, who'd been secretly rooting for another royal wedding, but Bucky doesn't need to know _that._

He'd expected, somehow, that their easy banter would just fall back into place, but it didn't. One word. Maybe that's all she wants to give, but of course, Bucky will push for more.

"No you're not. Take the bed."

She turns on her heel, sighing. "Are we really doing this?" she asks.

"Doing _what_?"

"Arguing over who gets the bed. You should know this hotel wasn't cheap. I'll be fine."

Shuri's adamant, and rightfully so, because she isn't wrong. Hardly ever is, really, but he still won't let her have this one.

"Do you really want to sleep on a couch?" he tries to reason.

" _Okay_. Then stay on your side, because neither do you." she resolves. "Compromise, you ever heard of it?" She mumbles this part under her breath, but Bucky's just a little too stunned to dwell on it. For now.

"And you stay on yours." he replies simply, despite the alarms ringing in his head. _You can't actually do this - it's improper_ , they say.

Bucky's brushing his teeth when their conversation replays in his head and at a certain part, his train of thought comes to a complete stop. _Compromise_? She wants to talk about _him_ not understanding compromise? They'll talk then.

He spits out the remaining toothpaste, rinses his mouth, and decides last-minute to throw on a blank t-shirt. Just to avoid any _unnecessary_ awkward conversations.

He walks out of the bathroom and to the bed, where Shuri already comfortably lounges under the covers.

The lights are already off so he tucks himself in. Even though he's facing the other way - however improper - feels the _very_ sudden urge to pull her close, and that's when he decides he's done playing this game. "I don't get it. I really don't. What did I do?" he asks, turning to face her.

"What didn't you do?" she replies, mumbling.

"Why are you so entitled?"

She rolls to face him and points to herself, "Me? Entitled?" Her eyes are wide and her eyebrows raise as if she wants him to answer the question, so he nods.

Turning so that her whole body faces him, she continues, "Entitled. We're talking about the same word here right? Deserving of privileges or special treatment?" she questions, and he nods again. She sneers, before her face falls back to a barely contained frown.

"Don't you think you have a little something to do with that?" she pauses, leaving him room to thinking over her accusation. He's not even sure whether the question was rhetorical or not. "You do," she decides, "Constantly putting me on some sort of pedestal. _You're just protecting me_. That's what you said right?"

That _is_ what he'd said that day.

_"I'm just protecting you."_

From what? It seems everything but himself.

"You're also quite entitled yourself. Do you remember our first ever argument? - Because I still do."

Of course he does. How could he forget?

_He walked into the lab, where Shuri stood with her hands folded in front of her, and a huge grin on her face. He couldn't help but smile back._

_After exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she ran to the other side of the lab, towards a huge shelf. She pulled down a black case and walked back to him with it._

_Shuri opened the case on the counter in front of them with a satisfying click, revealing a vibranium arm. A charcoal color with gold accents marking each each plate, of which there were very many. Bucky could tell at first glance that this one had a much wider range of motion than the last, thought that was a given, because Shuri did everything with a certain gusto that just couldn't be matched._

_"You'll have to train me with it one day." Shuri had said, turning the vibranium palm in her hand. He should have replied "Can't wait." or "That'll be fun." But of course, he hadn't._

_"I- I don't think I'm ready yet."_

_"Bucky, I know you'd never hurt me. Don't-"_

_"Do you just think? Because I can't take it until you know."_

The aftermath is a blur.

"That never was about the arm, was it?" she asks, and he suddenly feels very, very exposed; because she's right. It never was about the arm, and he has absolutely no doubt in her work.

It was about her. Everything is.

He starts to form the words, "You aren't ready for all that." but she beats him to it.

"Yeah I know. Just like everyone else, you don't believe I'm ready," she says the last word around air quotes, "Not ready enough to do things on my own, or go out into the world. Which was perfectly fine when the borders were closed because there are some rules you just _have_ to follow. Even I understand that." she stops and looks him directly in the eyes, daring him to argue to which he doesn't, and she continues, "But not now. Now it just contributes to my so-called entitlement - which you obviously agree is a problem. I've built weapons since I was fourteen but I can't use them?"

This question, _is_ rhetorical. "I have to take up the mantle someday. I just wanted you to help me with this," she lifts up a finger from the expanse of the blanket, " _one_ thing. Is that too much to ask?"

"Shuri. T'Challa isn't getting old anytime soon. You can help in other ways. You _do_."

"See! There you go again." she bursts out, throwing up her hand. "The pedestal." she says mockingly reverently, shaking her head, before coming to an abrupt stop.

"Wait. So what do you think that has to do with dating?"

The question pertains to their latest argument, when she'd asked him for dating advice, albeit off-handedly. He'd dismissed even the mere thought of her entering a relationship with the man she didn't name and spit out a bunch of excuses, from her being too young to too important.

Now Bucky realizes he didn't get mad she was showing interest in men because he was protecting her. He was _jealous_.

"I- I- there's-" he stutters over himself trying to come to terms with the realization and defend himself at the same time. 

"I promise you there's nothing you can do that-"

"Shuri, there's nothing they can do for you." he interjects quickly, not wishing to hear about the mystery-man.

"I thought we talked about the self depreci- You weren't even listening, were you?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Bucky...It's _you_."

Does that mean...?

Bucky tries to search her face for confirmation, but she looks away from him. His flesh index tilts her chin up to him as his thumb traces the side of her face, the arch of her brow, and the curve of her nose.

"Really?" he manages to breathe out. Shuri nods ever so carefully and his face splits into a grin.

Still though, Bucky struggles to grasp the concept of Shuri having feelings for him that go beyond sympathy. There's nothing he can think to say - that is, out in the open. He figures his tongue works better against hers and as he kisses her, her head back against the left side pillow where the weight of his feelings have pushed her, he realizes it feels better too.

He grips the back of her neck, careful to avoid the cloth wrapped tightly against her braids. As she opens up to him one leg winds around his torso, pulling him even closer. He puts every bit of want, adoration, and _God_ , probably even love into the kiss and she returns the favor.

She tastes sweet, like the finest wine and _God_ is he getting drunk off it. He _still_ wants more so he gets off his side, pushing the covers off both of them. He lands right atop her, and shifts until his waist is between her legs and she squeezes as he deepens the kiss more.

Eventually, they both pull away softly if only to breathe, their breathes mingling in-between their faces, just inches apart. The soft light glows again across Shuri's face, but now that Bucky's not in the way it dances across every plane. It reminds him of when she'd stand outside his hut at mid-day, sunshine behind her and warm light seeming to radiate of her skin itself.

He thinks to say something, and the words "I love you, I love you, I love you" play at tip of his tongue. 

But then Shuri's eyes close and her mouth opens in an "o" shape and she yawns. Bucky has a fleeting thought that it might be the most adorable thing he's ever seen before protective instincts rush in and he decides conversation can wait until tomorrow, when they'll sort out all their misgivings and miscommunication. Carefully, he unwinds himself from between her legs and pulls up the covers as he goes. She does nothing but watch.

Bucky pulls an arm around her waist and turns off the lamp thinking, _this is exactly how it's supposed to be_ , before being lulled to sleep by Shuri's steady breathing.

Tomorrow, strings of "I love you" fall from his lips and onto her skin, just as easy as breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedback is very much appreciated and have a good day/night!
> 
> Next time: Childhood friends to lovers.


End file.
